Only Wanna Dance With You
by Quiet REBel girl -with VoDKa
Summary: "Who the fuck is Colby?" Randy Orton is entirely too interested once he finds out Seth's real name. First story in the Beauty and the Beast 'verse. Story beings mid-March 2013.
1. Waste My Time

**Title:** Only Wanna Dance With You

**Chapter:** 1: Waste My Time

**Pairing:** Randy Orton/Seth Rollins (Colby Lopez)

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** "Who the fuck is Colby?" Part 1 of the Beauty and the Beast 'verse.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own shit.

**Author's Note:** So, this happened. Haha. Really, though, my Randy/Seth fascination started when I was plotting out and writing another series entirely, but suddenly took over my whole set of muses, and now, I finally have enough of this written to feel confident sharing it with you fine folks. Also, with the most recent Raw developments, I feel like I'm going to have ample amounts of material to work with, so the timing just seemed appropriate to finally, _finally_, drop this first part. This one's gonna be a bit of a monster, so I'm breaking it down into multiple stories. This right here is just part one. =D I know I've been out of the game for a while, but hopefully, there's a lot more of this to come. Hope you enjoy. =)

**Warnings:** Language.

_~It's all about hanging out_  
_'Cause you know how to waste my time~_

It's a Tuesday when Randy Orton finds out that Seth Rollins is actually Colby Lopez. He's stretching in the hallway near one of the locker rooms, getting ready for tonight's Smackdown taping, when Daniel Bryan walks by, Seth at his side. That's when Randy hears it, for probably the fifteenth time in the last week, Daniel saying the name, "Colby", and Randy can't even help it, leaping to his feet and trailing quickly behind them.

"Hey, wait!" Randy calls, grabbing at Daniel's shoulder to get his attention. Both of them turn around at the same time, shooting Randy nearly matching curious looks, which the Viper can kind of understand. It's not like he really talks to either of them that often. Or at all. Still, his curiosity has already more than gotten the better of him with this, so he figures he may as well ask, "Who the fuck is Colby? I swear, I've heard you say that name about a hundred times, and I'm completely clueless here."

Daniel and Seth exchange amused glances before Seth's raising a hand slowly.

"That'd be me. Colby Lopez? That's my real name, since you apparently missed it." Seth tells the older.

Randy's brow furrows, eyes scanning over Seth slowly, all the way down and back up again. Kid sure doesn't _look_ like a Colby, he thinks. Aloud, he says, "_You're_ Colby? Well, that's...weird."

It's Colby's turn to look confused, replying slowly, "Uhm. Thanks?"

Instantly, Randy feels like a dick, realizing how it must have sounded. He stammers for a moment, trying to revise his original wording, but Seth- er, _Colby_, he reminds himself- just laughs.

"It's okay. I think Randy's a weird name, too." the younger interrupts him with a smile, patting him on the shoulder. "I'll see you around, okay?"

Then, Colby and Daniel are turning around, continuing along the path they were on to begin with, leaving Randy to his stretching again. Unfortunately, he can't bring himself to do anything but watch them leave, running the conversation over again in his head and trying to figure out what about it, exactly, left this strange knot in his stomach. Finally, he decides that it must have something to do with his initial reaction, and the way it affected the younger. That had to be it, right? Right, he just feels bad for hurting the kid's feelings. That's _gotta_ be it, he thinks. He'll just have to apologize the next time he sees Colby, set things straight, and then everything will be back to normal. At least, he hopes. The way his stomach turns at the thought of running into the younger, however, he's not so sure.

**III**

Despite his best efforts (that he'd never admit to exerting), Randy can't seem to catch Colby anywhere. The kid's harder to find than fucking Waldo, which kind of makes sense to Randy when the Viper considers who his best friends are. The Shield haven't exactly stayed on the good side of most of the locker room, after all, so Randy starts to look elsewhere. He manages a few near-misses, but Colby always seems to either be too far away for him to catch in time, or too busy for him to want to interrupt. After three weeks, though, Randy feels himself beginning to lose his cool, desperate to get past this feeling that washes over him every time he so much as hears mention of the younger. He stalks the halls of the arenas, checking every room, asking everyone he sees whenever he doesn't have a match, but for some reason, it seems as though he's constantly just missing Colby. It's sometime during the fourth week of endless searching that he gives up, almost accustomed to the stomach twists by now. When he's meant to run into the kid, he will, he figures.

It's with this thought in mind that he takes himself to a bar near the hotel after one of their house shows, determined to clear his head for a bit, forget about Colby and offending him and everything to do with it. But, life has a funny way of throwing things in Randy's face right when he least wants to deal with them, so, of course, no sooner has he sat down at the bar and ordered a drink when who should slide up next to him but Colby Lopez. Randy almost falls off his barstool in shock.

"Hey!" Randy exclaims, accidentally cutting the younger off right as he opens his mouth to order a drink.

Colby turns to him with a look of confusion laced with a hint of annoyance. He replies, "Hey?"

Before he can turn back around, Randy tells him, "I've been looking for you."

"I've heard." Colby says, the annoyance fading to something like amusement.

Now, Randy's the one who's confused. Why hasn't the young aerialist found him, then?

"Aren't you the slightest bit curious why?" Randy asks, almost offended when Colby smirks in response.

"Not really. We do work together. I figured you'd find me eventually. And look! You have." the younger exclaims, a touch of condescension in his voice. Realizing he's in for a bit of a conversation, Colby drops down onto the stool next to Randy. He questions, "What's up?"

And Randy almost doesn't want to say it now, but his stomach is nearly doing somersaults being this close, so he figures now is as good a time as any to get this over with and just make it _stop_. He clears his throat to calm nerves he wasn't even aware could still be stimulated like this, and explains, "I just feel like I was kind of a dick to you. Y'know, about the name thing. Saying Colby's a weird name. It's not that it's a weird name, you just don't really strike me as a...Anyway, sorry. For that."

The look of confusion is back on Colby's face now, and it confuses Randy even further.

"Okay?" Colby says, and Randy feels his brow furrow.

_Okay? What is that?, _he thinks.

Colby seems to read his mind, because then, he elaborates, "Look, I'm not trying to be an asshole here or anything, but I don't really care what you think of my name. Or whether or not you even know my real name, to be honest. I don't mean that in a mean way, either, it's just, you don't really matter to me? Shit, no, that sounds worse. What I mean is, I don't like you, but I don't dislike you, either, Randy. You're just, like, not even on my radar, I guess. We're co-workers. That's it. So, not to be rude, but I wasn't offended or anything because I just kinda don't give a shit."

And this completely throws the Viper off, leaves him floundering for words for a moment.

"_Really?_" he finally manages, because here he's been hunting this kid for weeks to apologize, and he _doesn't care_?

Colby just nods, sliding off the barstool.

"Really and truly. Don't care. At all." the younger reiterates, turning and trying to signal for the bartender once again.

"But I'm _Randy Orton_!" Randy objects, almost not giving a damn how arrogant he sounds when he says it. Almost, he thinks, because then Colby's turning back to him with a look of barely stifled hysterics, and he kind of feels like a tool.

"Yea. Yea, you are. And I'm Colby Lopez. Or really, you don't even have to call me that. You can keep calling me Seth if it's easier. Seriously, I don't care. I don't know how much more clear I can be about that." Colby tells him. Then, "Wait, yes I do."

The bartender is in front of him, now, and Colby orders the drinks for his table, not even glancing at Randy as they're being made. Once he pays, he grabs all three carefully, finally turning to look at the Viper again. He tips his head in the older's direction.

"I'll see you around." he says in much the same fashion as the first time.

Then, he's off, disappearing into the bar that's managed to get a hell of a lot more crowded in the last few minutes. Randy sits stunned on his stool, staring after the younger once more until he loses sight of him. Once he does, he turns around, propping himself up on the bar with an elbow and stirring his drink, staring into it as he thinks. What the hell was Colby talking about, 'he doesn't care'? Everyone has _some_ kind of opinion about him, feels some kind of way. Love him or hate him, Randy evoked some kind of emotion in everyone. Except Colby, apparently, if his words were anything to go by. Randy grabs his drink, downing the rest of it in one gulp. Well, fuck that, he thinks. He'll _make_ the kid like him. With that, he pushes himself off his barstool, dropping some extra bills onto the bar before turning and heading out. He's got a lot of planning to do.

**XXXXX**

"Jesus Christ, did you have to make them yourself?" Dean half-growls as Colby approaches the table with the drinks.

"Just about. He was talking to some girl's tits the whole time, took me forever to flag him down. Sorry about that." Colby replies, sliding the drinks to his friends and taking his seat at the table again. Better to tell a bit of a lie than send an angry Dean after Randy Orton.

Colby meant what he'd said to the Viper, he really doesn't have an opinion of him. Sure, he's a great wrestler, but Colby only even knows that from the matches he's had with him. Outside the ring, though, he hardly knows the guy, and he's hardly wanted to bend over backward to make friends. He figures if they had anything in common at all, they would have found their way into each others' circle by now. The fact that they haven't has to mean something. But, then again, it's not as though he has anything against Randy, either, having never been personally wronged by him. Colby just really, really couldn't care less about Randy Orton.

At least, he thinks, until now. The older had gone to an awful lot of trouble trying to find him, and to apologize about some off-handed comment? That didn't seem right. Whatever the real reason, Colby can't help but find his curiosity peaked. He settles into conversation with Roman and Dean, he tries to put the thoughts out of his mind. All night, though, a part of him keeps wondering what exactly Randy has in store for him.


	2. Dead on Arrival

**Chapter:** 2: Dead on Arrival

**Author's Note:** So I feel bad that this has been sitting on my desktop for almost as long as the first chapter, but I know I have this awful habit of leaving things on hiatus for months (read: years) at a time, so I keep trying not to update until I at least have the next chapter written, and I finally, _finally_ finished up chapter 3 this week. I have to admit, these first few chapters feel like filler, but this whole 'verse is so important to me at this point that it feels like it's part of this story that can't be skipped. It just might take me a bit longer to get it out for a while. Nevertheless! I have lots more finished, so there's tons more to come, and to start with, here's chapter 2. Hope you enjoy. =)

_~This is side one, flip me over_  
_I know I'm not your favorite record_  
_The songs you grow to like never stick at first_  
_So I'm writing you a chorus, and here is your verse~_

"You want _what_ from me?"

And Bryan is completely incredulous when he asks it, stopping what he's doing immediately and turning to Randy with a look of utter confusion. Randy kind of understands this, so he swallows the comeback he once would have fired at the smaller wrestler and opts for being polite instead.

"I would really like to get Colby's number from you. _Please_." Randy says, and he can almost feel a part of him die on the inside, half pleading with Daniel Bryan of all people.

"Why don't you get it from him?" Bryan asks, and Randy curses internally.

"He's kind of been avoiding me. That's the only reason I even need the number." the Viper explains.

"And somehow you thought that _I_ would give it to you?" the younger questions, his expression turning to one of almost amusement when Randy nods slowly. But then, Bryan replies, "Yea, no. If you want to talk to him, you'll have to get ahold of him yourself. No way am I going to be a part of this."

Randy doesn't even get a chance to respond, either, because suddenly, Bryan's being called away to meet with people about his match for the night, leaving Randy to stew in his own thoughts. He mentally curses again, felt like he'd been so close. Colby's been pulling the disappearing act even more frequently since their encounter at the bar, and it's got Randy more frustrated than ever, unaccustomed to being avoided like a leper. How's he supposed to set any kind of plan for friendship into action if he never sees the guy?, he wonders. Asking Bryan for the younger's cell phone number had been a desperate effort, sure that if Colby had any idea he was asking around trying to reach him that way, he'd never answer. _And now_, he thinks, _even_ that _was a bust_.

Randy's just about the leave the locker room, give up on this particular plan, when he hears it. Like a gift from the Gods, there's a cell phone buzzing right next to Bryan's bag. The Viper freezes, turning to stare at it as it rings. _It has to be Bryan's phone_, he thinks, watching it vibrate its way across the bench, Brie Bella's face grinning up at him from the screen. _No one else's it could _possibly_ be._ It finally stops ringing, and Randy pauses, looks around. There's no one left in the locker room to even notice him, he realizes. And really, he hasn't been this person for years, but he's getting desperate here. So, without a second thought, he pockets the phone and strolls out of the locker room, hurrying back to his own as quickly as possible, as if someone can actually see through the pockets of his jeans.

All the way back to his own locker room, Randy can feel the weight of the phone settled into his pocket, somehow heavy opposite his own. It makes him walk the slightest bit faster, trying not to be too obvious. It's not a big deal, he tells himself. He'll just get to his locker room, get the number, and take the phone right back. Bryan won't even notice it's gone. Of course, all of this is much easier said than done, Randy realizes when he attempts to put the plan into action. He finds the number easily enough, plugging it into his own phone and pocketing Bryan's once more. The moment he opens the door to take it back, however, he almost trips over one of the crew members, hand already raised to knock on his door. He shoots the much smaller man a glare.

"Can I help you?" he bites out, frustrated at having his plan derailed once more.

"Uh-uhm, Triple H wants to see you before your match later." the man stammers, barely able to meet Randy's gaze.

Randy rolls his eyes. _Of course_ he does, he thinks. He asks, "Can this not wait a little bit?"

"He, uh, he said now." is the unfortunate reply, and Randy sighs.

_So much for being inconspicuous_, he thinks. He pulls Bryan's cell out of his pocket slowly, handing it to the crew member.

"You'll have to return this, then. Daniel Bryan lost his phone, and I'd hate for him to miss anymore calls from Brie." Randy tells the man, lying through his teeth. Even the crew member seems to see through it, shooting him a curious look even as he accepts the phone. Too late to regret it now, though, Randy figures, heading toward Hunter's temporary office for the night. At least he has the number. And hopefully this way, Colby won't be able to ignore him.

**XXXXX**

The texts start coming in just as Colby's getting ready to leave for the night, opting to catch a ride with Bryan and Phil since Dean and Roman have plans of a more romantic nature, and the last thing he needs with his own lack of sexual encounters is to disturb one of his friends'.

_Hey! What's up? Are you busy? It's Randy._

Colby stares at his phone in utter confusion. Aloud, he says, "Why the fuck is Randy Orton texting me? How did he even get my number?"

"Holy shit, I think he stole my phone." Bryan replies, shock in his tone. Colby turns to look at him where the older has completely stopped packing up his bags to face his two companions.

"_What?_" Colby and Phil practically squawk at the same time.

"What do you mean, 'stole your phone'?" Phil questions almost angrily.

"Why the hell would he steal your phone?" Colby asks just slightly louder than Phil, and the older glares at him when Bryan turns to him instead.

"He returned it, geez. Relax. He was asking me for your number earlier, actually. Probably took it to get that, fucking creep." Bryan tells Colby, and the younger's brow furrows.

"Seriously? What is his deal?" Colby wonders aloud, focusing on the random new text message on his phone.

"No idea. Whatever it is, he seems pretty fixated on you, though, kid." Bryan says with a laugh, going back to gathering up his things to leave.

When Phil zips up his own bag harshly, practically storming over Bryan to speak to him in a low, heated voice, Colby moves to reply to the text message, trying to let them have their moment. Before he can type a single word, though, another one is coming in.

_Sorry for hitting you up out of the blue like this. You've just kind of been going out of your way to avoid me. I figure you can't avoid a text message, right? Ha Ha. :) _

Colby glares at the phone. _We'll see about that_, he thinks, turning off his screen and dropping his phone into his pocket. Then, he's grabbing his bag, heading out the door behind Bryan and Phil. Fuck Randy Orton, he thinks. If this asshole wants his attention, he's going to have to work for it. And that totally doesn't mean stealing his friend's phone.

**III**

The text messages don't stop coming, though. If anything, they come more frequently the more of them Colby manages to ignore. It's almost as though Randy knows he doesn't quite have it in him to change his phone number, had it far too long, and the older just keeps taking advantage of that, a new string of texts flooding in after every single live event. One night, Dean can't even help his curiosity, trying to grab Colby's phone out of his hands. Colby holds it close, though, not wanting his friend to catch the name that's lighting up to accompany the message.

_**Randy**_  
_You can't ignore me forever, Colby. Come on, one drink with me and my friends. I promise I won't kill you._

"Seriously Colbs, who the fuck keeps blowing your phone up? If it's that big of a deal, Rome and I can gladly kick their ass for you." Dean offers, and Colby laughs.

"Nah, man, don't worry about it, for real. A couple of the guys just think I need to make more friends." he spouts out, hoping Dean doesn't see through what's almost a lie. Thankfully, his friend just scoffs.

"Ha! Why hang out with anyone else when you already have the best? Tell 'em to fuck off." Dean says with a smirk, and the high flyer nods his agreement, more relieved than he'd like to be that the matter seems to be dropped for the moment.

Colby's pretty confident if the older knew what's really going on, he would almost certainly beat the shit out of Randy, happily, and that's the last thing he needs. He can reject Orton on his own, he thinks. It's with that thought that he finally, _finally_ replies to a text from the Viper, sending him a single word before pocketing his phone and turning back to his dinner, content to put the whole mess behind him.

**XXXXX**

Randy can't help the way his face lights up the slightest bit when he feels his phone vibrate in his hand, glancing down to make sure it's actually from Colby before he gets his hopes up too high. He's unprepared for the feeling he gets when he actually reads the response, however, staring at it in disbelief.

"_No_? What the _fuck_?" Randy half squawks, barely resisting the urge to throw the phone in sheer frustration. "One response in three weeks, and all he says is 'no'?"

John Cena laughs from across the locker room the two have been sharing.

"Are you seriously still harrassing Rollins?" Cena questions, and Randy shoots him a glare.

"He keeps _ignoring me_." the Viper explains, trying to make his friend see the seriousness of it. John just laughs harder.

"So maybe take a hint for once?" he suggests, biting back a full-on John Cena smirk. "Not everyone wants to be friends with you, y'know."

"It's just because he won't even take the time to get to know me." Randy objects, something that's about as close to a real pout as he's gotten in the last few years clearly adorning his face. He stares at his phone as he mutters, "You never know. He could find me charming."

And John outright guffaws at this, throwing his head back in a real laugh. Randy seems to fold in on himself further, even as John ignores him and pulls on a new shirt for their taping.

"Maybe he _doesn't want to_, Randy. Seriously, you can't force him to hang out with you." John tries, but Randy's not having it, already pushing himself off the chair he's been glued to for over an hour now. He drops his phone into his bag and carefully snatches something out of it before shooting his friend a much more solid smirk.

"Maybe I can." the Viper fires back. He has just enough time to catch Cena rolling his eyes before he's exiting the room, mission already in mind.

Randy roams the halls for the better part of five minutes before he finds anyone useful, everyone else busy trying to prepare for tonight's Raw. Finally, he stumbles upon a lone cameraman, too distracted checking his schedule for the night to notice the larger man gliding up next to him. Randy grins, grabbing him by the shirt and dragging him down an empty side hall. Quickly, he checks his surroundings before he turns to the terrified cameraman, pulling the money he'd snuck from his bag out of the front of his trunks, presenting it to the man before him. The man shoots Orton a look that almost seems like a cross between disgust and curiosity as he looks up at him.

"You can have all of this if you tell me where the Shield's locker room is going to be tomorrow night." Randy explains, catching a raised eyebrow in respose.

"What for? You're not gonna hurt them, are you?" the man questions suspiciously, fear still evident in his voice. Randy attempts a smile that he's pretty sure scares the other man more than it reassures him.

"No way. In fact, it has nothing to do with work at all. Scouts' honor." the Viper tells him, adding a salute to try and seal the deal. When the other man still seems skeptical, he says, "I'll double it tomorrow."

"Deal." he receives as an immediate answer, the cameraman thrusting out a hand for him to shake.

Randy's fake smile morphs into a genuine grin as he accepts the other's hand, replying in the same. _Perfect_, he thinks as he walks back to his own locker room. _He definitely can't ignore me in person._

**XXXXX**

Colby has never been more grateful to be the one to answer the door to their locker room as he is when he opens it to reveal a grinning Randy Orton. It takes everything in him to not immediately slam the door in the older's face, taking a slow, deep breath just to not alert Dean and Roman to anything. He turns to his companions, trying hard not grit his teeth as he tells them it's someone for him. He ignores their more than curious stares as he exits himself from the room, closing the door behind him before they can catch sight of just _who_ it is. Then, he's grabbing a way too excited Randy by the wrist and dragging him down the hall, yanking him into the first empty room he finds.

"You have got to be _fucking joking_ right now. You can't just show up at my locker room!" Colby snaps the second the door closes, glaring up at the Viper, who simply smiles back at him. The younger growls in exasperation, clenching his fists at his side to try to keep from shouting as he asks, "What the hell do you want from me?"

"Just your attention." Randy tells him quickly, throwing his hands up in defense as if he's trying to diffuse a situation he didn't expect to become so volatile. _How could he expect anything else?_, Colby wonders angrily, but still, he shoots the older a curious look, giving him a chance to explain. Orton exhales slowly, taking on an almost sheepish demeanor as he says, "Look, I'm just not exactly used to being blown off and ignored the way you've been doing, and I just think if you'd at least hang out with me once, you might possibly like me, or at least have _some_ opinion of me, which would be loads better than this neutral shit."

"_Seriously?_ You've been _stalking me_ because...are you...I just..._Seriously?_" Colby questions incredulously, something akin to shock in his tone. He tries to rein in his emotions when he notices how honestly embarrassed Randy looks, letting out a soft sigh and closing his eyes for a moment with a thought of, _I can't believe I'm doing this._ "So what you're telling me is that if I go out after work with you _one time_ and I don't completely enjoy myself, you'll drop all of this and leave me the hell alone?"

He immediately wants to take it back when Randy instantly perks up, smile spreading across his face as it lights up in something Colby's pretty sure is legitimate excitement. But then, Orton is nodding happily, informing him, "Absolutely. I'll forget everything. I'll even forget your real name if you want."

Colby just rolls his eyes, confused as to why he suddenly can't bring himself to disappoint the older with another rejection even as he's telling Randy, "Okay, fine. Fine. One time. But for real, if I don't have the best time of my _life_, you stop bugging the crap out of me, and we go back to being distant co-workers. Got me?"

The Viper nods even harder, grin so large that Colby almost finds himself fighting one of his own. _Almost._

"Yea, you've got it. I promise. How's tonight?" Randy asks, almost all in one breath.

"Yea, no. Bad timing for tonight." Colby replies. No way can he ditch Dean and Roman that easily tonight, he thinks, and no way is he going to bring them along, or even tell them. He offers instead, "How about you text me next Monday after Raw and tell me where you and your guys are headed, and I'll meet you there. Sound good?"

"Sounds great." the older swiftly agrees. He reaches out, ruffling Colby's hair and drawing a scowl across the younger's face as he slaps the hand away. Randy just keeps grinning. "See you then."

Then, he's gone, door clicking shut behind him as he leaves the boy alone to ponder what the hell just happened, and what the hell he had just agreed to.


	3. Glad You Came

**Chapter:** 3: Glad You Came

**Author's Note:** So, like the last chapter, I've had this one finished for a nice little bit, but I've been waiting until I have more of the next chapter written before I post it. While I'm not as far along in the next chapter as I'd like to be, I have so much written for later on in this story and 'verse as a whole that I feel confident posting this now and working on the next chapter as I can, because I doubt it'll take too terribly long to get out from here. Also, once we get to the meat of the story, rest assured that the important chapters will come out in a much more reasonable time frame since so many of them are already finished, ha. That being said, hope you enjoy. =)

_~My universe will never be the same_  
_I'm glad you came~_

The rest of the week finds Colby regretting he'd ever even agreed to go out with Orton, the older letting up a bit on the texts, but changing the tone to one of sheer elation in anticipation of the night ahead. The high flyer even answers a few of them, hoping to get Randy to lay off at least a little bit, but it just has the opposite effect, texts growing more excited with each reply. By Friday, Colby can feel his stomach turn every time he even thinks about the upcoming Raw and the events thereafter, and he makes a decision: he has to cancel their plans. He feels bad about it, sure, but for some reason, he's _certain_ he'll feel worse if he goes. _Randy Orton?_ Really, what was he thinking? The Viper is never someone he's wanted in his circle, and he has reasons for that. No reason to start now, right? Right, so, he just can't hang out with the guy, he decides.

So, Colby spends the rest of the weekend going back to dodging texts and frantically trying to think of an excuse that's plausible, but also doesn't make him sound like a complete asshole (though, why he even cares about the older's opinion of him at all, he's unsure of, and chooses not to even think about for too long). He curses himself the entire time for suggesting Monday night, of all nights. Almost any other day, he's pretty positive he could weasel out of plans fairly simply, skip out of town early or something and not even deal with the repercussions. With tapings two days in a row, though, he has no idea what the hell he can even say.

For a moment, he considers telling Randy something close to the truth, that Dean and Roman don't want him to go. But with his luck, he thinks, Randy would just go talk to them about it directly, knows that if the Viper is willing to steal Bryan's phone, he's almost certainly not afraid of talking to the younger's best friends. Colby can just imagine how well that would go, considering the other two don't even know he's been in contact with Orton, especially not on a familiar enough level to try and hang out with each other. Them finding out from the Legend Killer himself is the absolute last thing he needs right now. No, what he needs to do is squash this where it is, get rid of whatever affections Randy is trying to shove off on him and move on, forget it happened.

Which ultimately leads him back to his original decision in agreeing to go out with the older in the first place, to get Orton off his back, get him to drop this silly...whatever it is, since it seemed to be the only way. He hates this complete indecisiveness, the way this whole situation has him constantly thinking in circles trying to figure out how to resolve it. It drives him crazy, so much so that he ultimately has no other choice but to ignore the whole thing before he lets it get to him enough for Dean and Roman to actually notice. He figures if he waits long enough, the answer will come to him eventually. It has to...right?

_Wrong_, Colby soon finds out. So, _so_ wrong, in fact, that it leaves him pacing back and forth in the empty Shield locker room, having taken so much of his dear, sweet time to clean up after Raw and get ready to leave that even Dean and Roman have already bailed out, going so far as to leave a note telling him to take the long way back to the hotel room. _Awesome_, he thinks, even hiding there disappearing as an option. When the almost excited text with the location of the bar lights up the phone in his hand as he paces, Colby doesn't even know what to say. He huffs out a sigh, almost left with no other choice but to agree. He's still unconvinced, though, so instead, he continues to pace, ignoring text after text from Randy (and feeling more like an asshole with each one) until suddenly, a loud knock on the door makes him jump almost a foot in the air, phone slipping from his grasp with the jolt. He barely catches it before he hits the floor, stammering out a response to whoever is knocking in the same motion. He feels his face heat up in embarrassment as an older man, evidently a building employee, sticks his head into the room.

"Hey, kid, we really need to lock up soon, if that's okay." the man tells him, and Colby immediately snatches his bag off the floor and heads over to the door.

"Shit, yea! That's fine! I-I'm sorry I was holding you up like that! I'm just gonna go ahead and go." Colby replies hurriedly, nearly running all the way out to the parking lot with something akin to a feeling of outright humiliation.

He can't believe he was the last one in the building, he thinks, half-trembling as he tries to unlock his rental.

"Oh, thank _God_, Seth! Wait!" a voice suddenly sounds off behind him, and Colby startles, spinning around just in time to catch Cody Rhodes rushing up to the car. _Apparently I wasn't the last today, either_, he thinks almost smugly. He immediately goes back to feeling like a dick, however, as Cody says hurriedly, "I'm so glad you haven't left yet. Randy was supposed to give me a ride tonight, but he was all excited about some fucking plans he has and took off early. Now, he's sitting with Cena at the bar texting me all, 'where are you?' and I'm sitting here like, 'hey, I'm stuck here where you _left me_, asshole', so...can I catch a ride with you?"

_That's it_, Colby thinks, _life is mocking me._ But, he agrees, and Cody thanks him profusely, practically skipping around the car to slide into the passenger seat.

"The bar's just right up the road, so it's even on the way back to the hotel, if you can just drop me by there." Cody explains once they're on the road.

And Colby bites back a sigh as he replies, "Yea, it's no problem. I was on my way there, anyway."

Because really, _really_, he thinks, what other choice does he even have?

**XXXXX**

"It's almost one in the morning, man. Maybe he's just not coming." Cena tells his friend, barely stifling a yawn. Next to him, Randy exhales a deep sigh.

"He said he'd be here, though. He's said it a few times this week." Randy objects, eyes still glued to his phone on the table in front of him. "He probably just got tied up with something with his stupid friends. He'll be here."

It's John's turn to sigh now, flagging down the waitress and ordering a Red Bull this time. Looks like they're in for a long night, he thinks. At least, he hopes so, turning almost sad eyes on his friend, who still won't look up from the phone. He'd really like to think the kid wouldn't just stand Randy up without so much as a message, but to be fair, neither of them knows Rollins all that well, so anything is possible. John is still fairly curious as to why exactly Randy even _wants_ to get to know Rollins that well, the Viper normally fairly selective about his friendship circle. It's half the reason Cena had even agreed to come out tonight, interested in finding out just what it is that has Randy so attached already.

So far, though, Seth has been a no-show, not so much as an explanation making its way to Orton's phone, and it has both of them on edge. Cody was supposed to show up at some point as well, per Randy, but he hasn't made it yet, either, leaving John and Randy to nurse their drinks alone at a table tucked away from all of their much more excited co-workers, trying not to look too pathetic as they wait. This is pretty hard to accomplish the more time that goes by, as Randy seems to curl in on himself further and further, hunching over his phone in almost misery at the thought of actually being blown off by this kid.

Just as John is about ready to throw in the towel at the sight, pay the waitress for his energy drink and force his friend to leave, he hears a voice that makes him freeze.

"Randy Orton, you are an _asshole_, and you owe me a fucking drink." Cody snaps, storming over and dropping down next Randy at the table, an utterly nervous Seth Rollins in tow. Cody gestures to his companion. "You owe Seth one, too, since he was nice enough to drive me here after you _left me at the arena_."

Randy perks up so much, it actually draws a chuckle from John, even as his friend looks completely past Cody to turn all of his attention on the anxious high flyer.

"Colby! You made it!" Randy exclaims, and Cody gapes, looking between the two of them in confusion.

"_Colby_?" he questions of Randy as the younger sits down as well, not meeting anyone's eyes. "Since when are you two on a real-name basis?"

And John has to admit, he's curious, too, shooting Randy a questioning look alongside Cody's.

"We're kind of not. Your friend is just too damn nosy for his own good, sometimes." Colby answers instead, instantly relaxing when John barks out a laugh next to him.

"You've got that right." Cena replies. He turns to Colby with a smirk. "Let me guess, this is your standard 'well, so-and-so calls you that' situation, am I right?"

It's Colby's turn to laugh, now, shooting Randy a smirk of his own. "Seriously, Orton? You make a habit of this kind of thing? Figuring out people's real names and then stalking them out for attention?"

"Hey, now! How did this become Attack Randy Day? Didn't I invite all of _you_ here?" Randy objects, face actually starting to tinge red, and John laughs even harder. Cody's wearing something of a glare, though, Randy assuming it's from being left at the arena as he offers to the group, "Would drinks make this better? John, call that waitress over here again or somethin'! Next round is on me if we drop this right here."

"Next _two_ rounds." Cody reminds him, and yea, that's _definitely_ a glare, one that Randy stealthily chooses to ignore in favor of flagging down the waitress himself. He can only deal with one trainwreck at a time, and Cody is one he can handle later. He turns to Colby as the waitress approaches.

"What's your drink? Vodka? Whisky? Beer?" he questions, almost too eager to find out more about the preplexing younger wrestler.

"Oh, no. Water, please. It's already late." Colby replies, shaking his head.

"Which means you have to catch up. Come on, it's on me. Anything you want." Randy tells the boy, and Colby shoots him an almost challenging look.

"Anything?" he fires back, and Randy almost regrets it as he responds in kind. Colby turns to the waitress with a grin. "Give me a double of your top shelf whiskey."

And Cody can't even stop his near hysterical laughter at the wide-eyed expression painted across Randy's face as he looks at the high flyer.

"Seriously, kid?" the Viper asks incredulously.

"You said anything. _Twice_." Colby replies, smug look set in on his face. Meeting Randy's eyes almost nervously, he says, "And I believe you also said something about 'time of my life'. And 'time of my life' includes top shelf whiskey."

Randy sighs, dropping his face into his hands as he tells the waitress, "Fine, get him his goddamn double. And whatever these two idiots want."

Both John and Cody are curious even as they order their own drinks, but neither says anything about it aloud, Cody barely managing to stifle his laughter, and John unable to look away from this odd new addition to their circle. Colby doesn't even notice, though, still smirking at Randy across the table. The Viper peers through his fingers at the younger, finally pulling his hands away enough to show his own grin. As Colby's smirk dissolves into more of a shy smile, John clears his throat to stop the interaction before Cody can notice, the two of them almost blushing as they turn to look anywhere but each other. Cena watches them both carefully, almost certain that neither of them even noticed they were practically flirting, and he bites back a sigh, turning his focus on Colby once again.

"So Randy finally bullied you into coming out, huh?" he asks, and the smile the younger fixes John with makes at least one of the reasons for Randy's attraction very apparent.

"Ha, _harassed_ is more like it." Colby clarifies, but adds almost immediately, "But I mean, I guess it's not so bad. It is kind of nice to hang out with people who aren't Roman and Dean every once in a while."

"I thought you and Bryan were pretty close." John says, but it's much more of a question than he means it to be. Colby coughs out a laugh.

"Well, yea. I mean, him and Phil, both. But honestly, when was the last time you saw either of them in a bar?" he asks, and Randy laughs harder than he should at the thought.

John shoots him a look, _not the way to make a good impression_, but speaks over him, anyway, even as the Viper stifles his laugh. No need to make Colby more uncomfortable than he most definitely already is. He offers the boy a kind smile of his own.

"Well, consider this an open invitation anytime we all out go out like this, okay? As long as you can stomach Randy, you're okay around here." John finishes with a light smirk.

He almost cringes when Cody scoffs across from him, Colby turning his eyes on him with a hint of fear. Thankfully, the waitress chooses that exact moment to show back up, and John breathes a silent sigh of relief, watching closely as Randy relaxes a bit, too. As they take their shots and go back to talking, John makes an effort to steer the conversation back to more neutral topics, work, and music, and life in general, anything but whatever..._this thing_ is that's evidently budding between his best friend and possibly one of the most random of their co-workers. Until the two of them figure it out themselves, it's best to keep it a little more quiet, he thinks. Especially in front of Cody, who already seems a little more than annoyed at their newest member to the group. Still, he doesn't want to scare Colby away, either, Randy obviously more fixated than he should be, so he tries to keep things light for his sake, as well. The entire time, though, he can't help but be a bit pissed at his friend, dragging him into this meeting just to have to turn around and play mediator. But, one glance at Randy's obviously beyond nervous state tells him everything he needs to know about this whole situation, even if the Viper doesn't realize it himself, and while John knows they'll definitely be having a very serious talk about this later, he needs to be here for his best friend, now, so he plays his role silently. Before any of them realize it, though, it's after two thirty in the morning, and John can't even bite back the yawn that rips its way out of his mouth, stretching to accompany it.

"Jesus, it's late. You guys all ready to get out of here?" he asks, looking at each of his companions individually as he stands. Unfortunately, Randy has been drinking just enough to slide over into the seat he just vacated, eyes focused on Colby as he moves closer.

"Nah, you can go ahead. I'm wide awake." Orton replies, offering up his car keys to his friend without even looking up. "You can take the car. Colby can drive me back. Right, kid?"

Colby laughs a little too loud, turning to John with a red faced grin that momentarily makes the older worry about leaving either of them. "Don't you just love how he thinks he runs the world? Don't worry about it, I can drive him back, though. I'm sure we won't be here too much later."

Neither of them notice the way that Cody huffs out a sigh, shoving away from the table and storming to the door, but John definitely does, thanking Colby and dropping some money on the table before turning to hurry after the younger. By the time he makes it outside, Cody is halfway to the rental, and John calls his name to try and stop him. When the boy doesn't even slightly hesitate, John jogs to catch up, worried at the sight of the glare on his face. Cody ignores him all the way to the car, stopping at the passenger side and crossing his arms over his chest. John exhales slowly, unlocking the car and dropping into the driver's seat as Cody slides into the other side angrily. Cena tries to give the younger time to talk, but Cody won't even look at him.

"Are we gonna fucking go?" Cody snaps after a few minutes, and John sighs now, turning the car on and backing out. They're easily a few miles into their drive before Cody speaks again. "Does he do this shit just to piss me off?"

_Of course_ that's why Cody's mad, John thinks, glancing at the younger every few seconds as he drives.

"I don't think so. To be honest, I don't even think he realizes he's doing it." John clarifies as best he can. Then, "You know Randy's not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed sometimes."

"The hell he doesn't!" Cody fires back, arms shaking as they sit still crossed over his chest. He turns to look at John as he says, "It's like he invited me out just to rub it in my face!"

"Come on, Cody, you know better than that." John tries, but Cody scoffs.

"I _thought_ I did. You and I both know Randy hasn't exactly been the most trustworthy over the last few years." the younger replies, and John's jaw involuntarily clenches. Whatever happened between Randy and Cody all those years ago is completely irrelevant as far as Randy and John's own friendship is concerned, and for Cody to try and drag John into it again is awfully low, even for the situation at hand. He sighs again.

"No, I don't know that, Codes. What I _do_ know is that Randy still considers you one of his best friends, even after everything that's happened, and I'm pretty sure _that's_ why he invited you out tonight, considering this is the first time he and Colby have even seen each other outside of our jobs." John informs Cody, defending his friend to the best of his ability. He meets Cody's eyes as best he can while still focusing on the road in front of them. "Maybe he wanted to make a good impression for once. Judging by your reaction right now, it's really not a question as to _why_ he would have to try so hard."

And Cody actually seems to fold in on himself at this, something resembling shame washing over his features in a way that makes John feel almost guilty. Cody looks at his own lap and John turns his gaze completely back to the road, driving on in silence for a moment. Then, it's almost as if the silence has become too much, because he can't help but continue.

"Look, I'm not trying to be an asshole to you, nor am I trying to minimalize anything that happened between the two of you. All I'm saying is that that was then, and this is now, and right now, Randy is your _friend_, who has _nothing_ going on with _Seth Rollins_ and just really, maybe, needs a few more friends himself." he says, trying to ignore the fact that each word hits Cody a little bit harder.

"I know." Cody finally replies, voice so small it actually hurts John a bit to hear. "It's just hard sometimes."

"I know it is." John tells him, pulling up outside the hotel and parking. He turns to face Cody completely as he asks, "Can you at least try to play nice? For Randy's sake?"

It takes a few moments, and Cody definitely huffs out an almost painful sigh first, but eventually, he nods. As the two of them exit the car and head toward the entrance of the building, John figures it's all he can ask for. All that's left now is to talk to Randy.

**XXXXX**

Back at the bar, Colby has to admit, he's definitely had worse times than he's had with Randy Orton tonight, and that thought kind of scares him. He's laughed more than he has in a really long time, and while it's mostly been at the older wrestler's expense, Randy doesn't exactly seem to mind, and there's something about that that Colby finds comfort in. So much comfort, in fact, that it's nearing three in the morning when the waitress finally comes around and essentially forces them to close out Randy's tab, the bar closing down all around them. Colby is shocked as he takes in his surroundings for the first time in over an hour. They're the last two customers in the bar, and Colby feels his face heat up even as his companion pays. He didn't even want to come out tonight. How did he wind up staying out until _three in the morning_ with _Randy fucking Orton_? Still, he thinks, too late to take it back now, walking Randy to his own rental car. The older is definitely not in any position to drive, so Colby slides behind the wheel himself, turning the radio up before he even puts his seatbelt on. Randy shoots him something strikingly close to a fond grin, one that Colby carefully ignores in favor of checking his blind spot as he backs out of the parking space. The Viper doesn't even wait for him to put the car in drive before he's talking again.

"Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Randy asks, and Colby smirks.

"Not bad, I'll say that much. Though, I'm pretty sure the agreement was 'the time of my life.'" the high flyer replies, sending Randy into nearly full-on pout mode. Colby laughs so hard, he almost can't see straight enough to drive, and for a moment, he wonders if he should be driving at all. He shakes his head, though, clears his vision a bit before responding. "But, y'know. Maybe you're not a complete jackass."

Randy looks almost hopeful as he tries, "Does that mean I can get you to come out with us again?"

"I'll think about it." Colby tells him honestly, unwilling to give the older too much hope just yet. Still, when Randy grins, he can't help but add, "But probably."

"So...we're friends now?" the Viper questions, sitting up a little straighter, even in his completely inebriated state.

"We're not just co-workers anymore, but I dunno if I'd go that far." Colby responds, and Randy turns his gaze toward the road, a light smirk settling on his face.

"We'll get there." Randy mutters confidently, and Colby barely manages to not snicker out loud.

He can't believe it, but he's almost glad he came out tonight, never seen this side of Randy before, and likely never would have. It's something he would never have pictured himself enjoying this much, and he doesn't even want to think about it right now, so he instead focuses solely on driving and not at _all_ on the drunken, grinning passenger in his car. The rest of the drive to the hotel is spent in a comfortable silence, only the music spilling from the car's speakers breaking it. Randy nods along with the music in a way that brings a soft smile to Colby's face, no matter how hard he tries to fight it, and he blames it on his alcohol intake, pulling a little too fast into a parking place, distracted. He feels his face heat up as the front bumper scrapes the curb, but the older ignores it, thankfully, and he backs up a bit before putting it in park. He turns to face the Viper, and he feels his blush spread as he's met with an utterly endearing smile from his passenger seat.

"So, here we are." Randy says, and Colby has to clear his throat to even respond.

"We are here." he replies with a light chuckle, turning the car off, anything to distract from the older's practically penetrating stare. Thankfully, Randy seems to sense his discomfort, eyes flickering down to lap before meeting Colby's once more, much less confidence in them now.

"Is, uh. Is this where we take separate entrances into the hotel and act like this little encounter didn't happen so your friends don't find out?" he asks, and Colby instantly feels like a dick, wondering if it's that obvious. He suddenly can't meet the older's eyes, and doesn't know whether to feel better or worse when the older adds, "Since I assume that's why you took so long tonight."

Colby exhales slowly, feeling just a little bit disgusting. Still, he can't help but be honest about the whole thing, muttering, "Am I going to sound like a complete asshole if I say it would probably be easier if we did?"

And Randy looks at the ceiling of the rental as he barks out a laugh, but tells the younger honestly, "No. Though it does make me feel the need to evaluate where _I'm_ at in this industry. And life."

"You said it, not me." Colby replies almost on instinct, and Randy laughs even harder, a sincere one this time, relaxing the high flyer only the slightest bit.

"Okay, okay. I get it, be nicer. Whatever. I'll be nicer to _you_." the Viper fires back, finally facing his companion again. "Alright. I'm gonna go before I make an even bigger idiot of myself tonight. I'll even go in the side door for you."

That one kind of stings, Colby thinks, can't imagine how it felt for the older. He says, "I'm sor-"

"This was fun. We should do it again." Randy cuts him off. Then, he's opening the door, exiting the car. Before he leaves, though, he leans back in, dropping a final statement. "Please don't go back to ignoring my text messages."

With that, he's gone, shutting the door firmly behind him. Colby drops his head back against the headrest and shuts his eyes, can't even bring himself to watch the older man walk across the parking lot and clear around the building to the side door just as he'd said. Instead, he lets the higher points of the evening run back through his mind, honestly surprised at how many there are. If someone would have told him last week he would have enjoyed himself this much tonight, he probably would have laughed them out of the building. Yet, he's spent most of the night laughing for a completely different reason, honestly amused with the people in whose company he'd been. The thought makes him more nervous the more he thinks about it, so after a few minutes, he pushes it to the back of his mind, getting out of the car and heading into the building himself.

As he walks, it becomes painstakingly obvious just how much he really had to drink, the liquor finally setting in on the drive back and now making his vision swim before his eyes a bit as he enters the elevator, searching for the number to his floor. He wonders how Randy managed, feeling all the more guilty for not even walking inside with him. Too late to worry about it now, though, the elevator doors opening before him almost as if to eject him onto his floor. He curses when he stumbles a bit exiting onto the carpet outside the elevator, trying desperately to pull it together before he makes it to the Shield room. He can't quite seem to, however, swiping his key card four times before finally managing to get the door unlocked, so instead, he hopes beyond reason that his friends are at least asleep.

When Colby opens the door, the first thing is notices is that Dean and Roman are dead to the world, naked and wrapped up in the sheets and each other, and he's pretty sure he's never been as relieved as he is _right now_ to see them like that. Better this than awake to catch him sneaking into their shared hotel room at 3:45 in the morning, pretty drunk and fresh off a night with Randy Orton and John Cena. He can just _see_ it, and the thought turns his stomach more than the alcohol in it...he thinks. Either way, he needs to lie down ASAP, and he barely manages to tug off his shoes and pants before he's falling into the bed. He's just about to nod off when he hears his phone vibrate in his pocket on the floor, and he bites back a groan as he leans off the bed. It takes him longer than he'd like to pull the phone from his pants, and he collapses back onto his pillow with a huff to read the text message that has so rudely disturbed his almost slumber.

_**Randy**_  
_Night, kid._

And Colby can't even fight the smile that spreads across his face at the sight. _Of course_, he thinks. Even after everything Colby's said, the older can't seem to leave him alone. Still, the least he can do is keep his word and not ignore the damn thing, so he pulls up the keyboard to reply. He whispers the words aloud into the darkness as he types them into the phone before dropping it to his chest and finally falling asleep.

"Goodnight, Randy."


	4. Goodnight and Go

**Chapter:** 4: Goodnight and Go

**Author's Note:** I wish I had a better excuse for getting this out so damn late beyond it feeling kind of like filler in comparison to what else I have to come, and thus, it caused me writer's block, ha. Well, that and getting dangerously distracted writing ample amounts of stuff for the upcoming chapters. I apologize profusely. In the realest way. Hopefully, the next chapter comes out as quickly as I plan for it to, but I make no promises because I know myself. In the meantime, I hope the pace of this isn't too weird. Haha. ALSO, BY THE WAY. I realized belatedly that I didn't mention the timeline for this whole thing AT ALL. So, since the story actually begins around late March of 2013, this particular section takes place over a span of time between mid-May and early June. Moving on! Hope you enjoy! =)

_~Why d'ya have to be so cute?_  
_It's impossible to ignore you._  
_Must you make me laugh so much?_  
_It's bad enough we get along so well._  
_Say goodnight and go.~_

True to his word, Colby does consider the offer to spend more time with Randy and his friends. So much so, honestly, that he actually ends up going out with them almost regularly, somehow winding up out at some bar, or diner, or even one of the others' hotel rooms until the wee hours of the morning at least once a week. And really, he thinks, it'd be much easier to turn the offer down if Dean and Roman were even the slightest bit curious as to where he's been running off to lately, but they seem to be more focused on the newfound privacy they've gained as a result of it, something they'd grown accustomed to having to do without while they're on the road. Normally, Colby's pretty sure he'd be significantly more upset that his best friends don't seem to care what he's doing, but it has been giving him more time to do what he wants, namely, explore the strange almost-friendship he's discovered in Randy, on his own. And really, he can't completely blame them, either. If he _had_ anyone to have sex with, he'd want to have it as often as possible within their already tight schedule, too. At this thought, he huffs out a half sigh, unfocused eyes locked tight onto his drink on the table in front of him. He startles as he feels a shoulder knock into his own, jolted back into the present moment by a laugh sounding off next to him. He turns sheepish eyes on Randy, and then Cena across the table from him, Cody already tapped out for the night.

"Sorry, I guess I zoned out. What were we talking about?" he says, picking up his glass to take another drink. Before he can, though, Randy's reaching out and taking it from his hand, smirking as he dangles the half-full glass a few inches in front of his face.

"You sure you need any more of this?" the older teases, and Colby tries to grab it back, Randy moving it at the last second.

"Lucky for you, I don't have to drive, or I might actually listen to that. Conveniently enough, we're in the _hotel bar_ for that exact reason. Give it back." Colby fires back, fingers just managing to brush the glass as Randy pulls it even further away. Colby shoots him a half-glare. Randy just grins harder.

"I'd hate for you to zone out walking back to your room. Knock yourself out in the elevator or something. Get yourself stolen by a rabid fan." he replies, swapping hands to hold the drink almost out in the aisle as Colby nearly grabs it. The high flyer smirks now and leans clean across the older, shoving Randy against the back of booth so hard in the process that he almost drops the glass altogether. He turns wide eyes on the younger, using his free hand to hold him at bay.

"Well, if I get that drunk, you'll just have to carry me back to my room." Colby tells him, and Randy swallows thickly, their lack of space sending a strange sensation churning in his stomach. He shakes his head.

"Oh, no. Not gonna happen. Your friends would think I drugged you!" he objects with a near nervous laugh, and Colby's gaze hardens.

"Give me the drink or I'll tell them you did, anyway." the high flyer half-threatens, Randy shaking his head again before the boy can even finish.

"You wouldn't do that. You don't hate me that much." Randy says, confident smile on his face even as Colby presses in closer, almost grabs the drink again. His eyes lock on tight with the Viper's, an almost daring look in them, and suddenly, Randy can't breathe.

"Try me," Colby tempts him quietly, barely breathes it, but before Randy can even think of an answer, John Cena the Buzzkill is cutting in once again.

"_Children_. Do we have to do this in public?" the older scolds, reaching across the table to take the drink from Randy himself and set it on the table in front of Colby. The two of them instantly separate, blushing as they turn to the table. John just smirks, watching them carefully.

After a moment, Colby clears his throat, downing the rest of his drink in one movement. Setting down the empty glass, he turns to look at them with a timid smile.

"On that note. You do make a good point, Randy. I probably have had enough to drink for tonight. I'm gonna go ahead and get going." he tells them, nudging at Randy to let him out as he moves to stand. The Viper doesn't budge, shooting him a look that almost qualifies as a pout.

"Aw, come on. I'm sorry, kid. You don't have to leave just because I was being an ass." he offers, grabbing Colby's arm as if to physically keep him sitting.

Colby just laughs, taking the older's hand and removing it from his arm. His grip lingers, though, Randy's hand heavy in his, and he speaks to avoid focusing on the heat radiating from it, the way Randy doesn't pull away. Cena raises an eyebrow as he looks between the two of them. Well, this is new, he thinks. He watches Colby turn shy eyes on Randy, smile still pressed onto his face as he shakes his head.

"Nah, it's not that. I just need to be getting back. We're on the road kind of early tomorrow." Colby explains, and Randy sighs, finally taking his hand back and sliding out of the booth.

"If you have to." he grumbles, and Colby laughs again, patting the older on the back as he slides out as well.

"Sorry, I do." the high flyer replies. He turns to John with a wide grin and a wave, and John smiles back. "John. Nice to see you, as always. Randy, I'll text you tomorrow. Have a good night, guys."

Then, he's gone, making his way out of the bar and into the lobby of the hotel. Randy watches him walk away, and John watches Randy follow the boy with his gaze, even as he drops back into the booth. There's a strange emotion in the Viper's eyes, something that's been there anytime Colby's been present as of late, something John _knows_ he's seen before, but he struggles especially now to put his finger on it. As Randy finally turns back to his friend, he shifts around almost restlessly, like it's difficult for him to get comfortable again. He's red-faced and kind of half-scowling, and as John runs his gaze over the younger, it suddenly clicks. _Well, shit_, he thinks, _that's _definitely _new._

**XXXXX**

Colby is turned on. Very, very turned on, he realizes as he walks toward the elevator, trying to put more distance between himself and the source of his current problem still seated in the hotel bar. He _really_ needs to get laid, he decides, if _Randy_ is managing to turn him on. And when had he dropped the older's last name?, he wonders. He shakes his head, because he wants to think about that even less than he wants to think about his current predicament and how he got there, so instead, he focuses on getting back to the room and _praying_ that his friends are already asleep tonight so that he can just take care of things and go straight to bed. No such luck, though, he realizes with a soft curse when he opens the hotel room door to find the two of them sprawled across their bed, wide awake and grinning at the TV instead. They both turn the grins on Colby as he makes his way in, Dean sitting up and coughing out a laugh as he meets the younger's eyes.

"Well, I'll be damned! Look who's back early for once!" he jokes, and Colby fights the urge to look guilty. "And where is it that you've been fucking off to all the time lately?"

Colby barely restrains himself from outwardly groaning. _Of course_ he wants to know that right now. The high flyer scoffs, plastering a grin on his face as he thinks of every horrendous, gross thing he can think of to tame his erection, eyes locked onto Dean's to keep him distracted.

"I've been hanging out with _other people_, Dean. What, I can only be friends with you guys now?" he fires back lightheartedly, still full of sarcasm from the last few hours. Still, he catches the light flash of hurt that crosses Dean's eyes, quick, and then it's gone, and then the older is smirking back at him (and that definitely does the trick, because now instead of focusing on his dick, Colby's pretty focused on feeling like one).

"_Oh_. Oh, no, I get it. Hey, Roman," Dean says, dropping his head backwards to look at their companion still laying on his stomach behind him. "Colby's been hanging out with people who are cooler than us."

"No, hey, it's not like that!" Colby tries to object, freezing right in the middle of kicking off his shoes at the foot of the bed.

Dean tilts his head back forward to meet his friend's eyes, amused smirk set on his face.

"Yea? Then what's it like, Colbs? How come we never get an invite to hang out with your cool, new friends?" the older teases, and Colby relaxes the slightest bit. Evidently, Dean's not _too_ upset. He continues to remove his clothes down to his underwear, flopping down onto his stomach on his own bed before answering.

"You never asked?" he offers, hoping Dean will take that answer at face value. Quickly, he adds, "Plus, you seemed to be taking enough advantage of the alone time..."

And Roman coughs at that, suddenly very, very focused on the television and very much _not_ focused on the coversation happening next to him. Dean grins and elbows him, but he doesn't look up, turning up the volume instead. This only manages to send Colby into a laughing fit on the other bed, sending a rush of red across Roman's face even as he tries his damndest to ignore the two of them.

In an effort to save his friend from any further embarrassment, Colby says, "That, and I didn't really figure you'd want to go. It's not like it's anyone you'd like."

Dean fixes him a with a look that almost makes him squirm at the addition, and for a terrifying moment, Colby worries that he's going to ask 'who', but there seem to be some small miracles left on his side, because Dean tells him instead, "Well, I would still appreciate the invitation to turn down next time."

"I'll keep that in mind." the high flyer replies with a laugh. Then, before Dean can say anything else on the subject, "So, what's on TV?"

He's overly relieved when Dean lets the matter drop, lets Roman answer Colby and settles into a much easier topic of conversation. He's still the slightest bit turned on, and he'd prefer not to think about that at all, prefer to try and forget about who he'd been with to even get that way. As they fall back into their usual light banter, Colby manages to almost push the whole thing to the very furthest reaches of his mind.

Still, when his friends finally drift off to sleep, Colby sneaks off to the bathroom, way too relieved to handle the problem that's been nagging at him all evening. Jumping into the shower, he focuses solely on sensation alone as he masturbates, determined not to think about anyone in particular. When he comes, though, he can't stop the visions of tribal tattoos that dance before his eyes, making his orgasm that much better.

_Fuck_, he thinks, slumping against the cold tile of the wall to catch his breath, _I have _got_ to get laid_.

**XXXXX**

"So, at what point are you going to admit that this is now officially more than you just wanting to be friends with Colby?" John finally asks Randy somewhere around two months into the boys' weekly (and sometimes bi-weekly) hangout sessions.

Randy is caught so off-guard, he drops the shirt he was about to put on, and John barely manages not to laugh. To his credit, though, the Viper tries his damndest to hide his shock, gaze darting immediately to the fallen t-shirt as if he's clueless as to why it leapt from his hands in the first place. As he leans down to pick it up, he coughs, clears his throat before responding.

"I'm not sure what you mean, John. Why else would I be hanging out with him?" the younger fires back, trying entirely too hard to open the shirt up and get it over his head before John can answer the question.

He's lucky the shirt is over his head before John does answer, because he can't even stifle the reaction as John says, "I dunno, maybe because you want to fuck him?"

"What the fuck?" Randy practically sqauwks, and this time John can't hold the laughter back, throwing his whole body into it as he nearly cackles at his friend. The Viper tries, "Wh-why would you think something li-_dammit, John!_"

John can't stop the laughter, Randy's face growing more and more red by the second just spurring him on further. He finally manages to calm himself down enough to catch his breath, wipe his eyes and look across the locker room to find his friend's.

"Sorry, sorry." John half chokes out, still brushing the remains of tears from his eyes. "It's just, come on, I see how you look at him. Like you're undressing him with your eyes, man. And you're always _touching_ him, like you can't even help it. Seriously, you're too obvious."

Randy won't look at him at all now, face dripping in embarrassment as he struggles to think of some kind of retort.

Before he can, though, John fixes him with a smirk, crossing his arms over his chest as he asks, "And tell me honestly, how long has it been since you've gotten laid?"

"That has _nothing_ to do with _anything_." Randy snaps in a way that suggests it actually has _a lot_ to do with it, angry eyes turned back on his friend, so John can't stop himself from prying.

"You sure?" John says, and Randy shoots him a glare. John shrugs. "Just sayin'. It's a thought. Maybe it hasn't crossed your mind _consciously_ yet, man, but trust me. It's an option."

There are a few long moments of silence as they both move to finish preparing for Raw, Randy letting the words roll around in his head. Suddenly, it's like something clicks, because he stops lacing up his boot to fix John with an overly curious look.

"Wait, what makes you think it's an option?" he asks, and John smirks, walking over to lean on the locker next to Randy as the younger finishes up.

"The same reason I know _you_ want it, Randal." and Randy bristles at the name, glares at his friend. John knows better. But, the older doesn't care, still smirking as he explains, "I'm not blind. And hey, maybe he's in your completely oblivious boat, and he hasn't realized it, either. All I'm saying is, the way you two sit around eye-fucking each other, maybe it's about time to get to the _actual_ fucking."

Randy's so flustered that when he opens his mouth to respond, no sound comes out, and he feels an immediate blush heat his face. Thankfully, he's saved from any further comments by a knock on the door, luck on his side for once as it's someone to fetch John for the ring. Still, it's like he can't resist fucking with the younger, because just before he leaves, he grips Randy's shoulders, gets right in his personal space.

"Seriously, Randy. Think about it. Never know, it might do you some good." Cena tells him, almost overconfident smirk set on his face.

Then, he pats Randy on the back just hard enough to almost throw the younger off-balance, and he's gone, letting the door slam shut behind him. The Viper rolls his eyes. His idiot friends, he thinks. Where do they even get this shit? He and Colby? Sex? Yea, right, he thinks with a scoff, tugging a shirt over his head. There's nothing to think about, because it would never happen, and for good reason, he reminds himself. Lots of them, really, so right, he's not even going to consider it, he decides, finally heading out to join the rest of the locker room for a while, watch the show. (He convinces himself that it's not because he kind of hopes to run into Colby lurking somewhere so they can talk alone before they have to go hang out with the entire group tonight, because there is _nothing to think about_.)

**III**

Except he does think about it, a lot. Can't help it, really, especially with the way he hadn't noticed until this moment _right here_ just how comfortable they've gotten in one another's personal space. John had superconveniently bailed on their plans for the evening when they figured out Cody couldn't come, leaving Randy and Colby alone to hole up in the older's hotel room, racking up a ridiculous room service bill and arguing over what movies to watch. Currently, they're a little over halfway through one of the Harry Potter movies (Randy forgets which one they've made it to, having had them forced upon him by the younger the instant he'd figured out Randy'd hadn't seen any past the first), and the high flyer is pretty much completely zoned out, pressed right up against the Viper where they sit propped up by the headboard. Randy's arm has somehow become perched on the younger's shoulder, fingers subconsciously toying with the hair at the base of his neck, and Colby almost leans into it, eyes transfixed on the screen. Every once in a while, he reaches across the Viper's lap to grab more food off the plate on his other side, accidentally brushing against Randy's abs occasionally as he does.

It's not until one of the light brushes sends an unintentional shiver up the older's spine that it hits him: he's hard. Almost painfully hard, and Colby has been _this close_ to discovering it the entire time. The movement, however, disturbs the younger enough to make him look up at Randy, shoot him a confused look, and all he can do is shrug, because honestly, _he_ doesn't even know what's got him so worked up, on edge. Surely, it's not the young aerialist next to him, right? Colby just offers him an amused smile, shaking his head a bit, but not looking away, some of his hair falling from behind his ear in the process. As Randy leans slightly closer to tuck it back, Colby exhales, breath ghosting across the older's face, and Randy realizes that if he tilts his head forward just enough, he could probably catch Colby's lips in a stolen kiss. The way the younger is looking at him right now, he almost thinks he could actually get away with it, too.

Just as he's about to throw caution to the wind, curiosity finally, _finally_ getting the better of him, there's a loud commotion on the TV screen and Colby startles, eye snapping open wide. Their close proximity seems to settle over him a moment later, because then the boy is nearly jumping away from Randy so fast, it's like he's been burned, almost falling off the bed entirely. Randy reaches out unthinking and grabs his wrist, balances him again at the last second, and suddenly, Colby's wide eyes are focused completely on that point of contact. Randy reluctantly lets go of him in the same second that the high flyer moves to tug the wrist back, neither of them looking at one another.

What feels like hours pass, but it can't be longer than a few seconds judging by the noise drifting from the TV speakers, before they're both finally turning to face each other, opening their mouths to speak at the same time. They both freeze, unsure of who should speak first, and Colby's eyes dart away as he licks his lips, suddenly even more nervous than he had been. The older can't help but follow the movement with his eyes, zero in on it as he repeats it subconsciously. He's so busy watching the high flyer's lips that he doesn't notice the boy staring back at him for a moment, gaze fixed on him much the same way as his own had been. When Colby realizes he's been caught, however, he fixes the Viper with a startled look once again, but this time, Randy thinks, _fuck it_, and dives in, hoping he hasn't read the last few minutes completely wrong.

Colby has to grab onto Randy's arms so he doesn't completely topple off the bed entirely from the force of the kiss, but he doesn't retreat, so the Viper considers it a win. The young high flyer tastes everything and nothing at all the way Randy had been imagining he would (and fuck, he realizes, maybe John's right if he's actually been imagining this, but now is _so_ not the time to think about that), a whole lot like the food they've been eating with this hint of something sweeter the older can't quite put his finger on. Whatever it is, it intrigues Randy and he decides he wants more of it, shifting closer to the boy and trailing a quick tongue along his lower lip in an effort to do just that. Colby begins to relax against him the slightest bit, mouth falling open just enough as he edges his way closer to the older as well, and Randy almost grins into the kiss, repositioning himself a bit so that he's fully facing the younger. In the process, he manages to accidentally brush against Colby's dick, drawing a soft gasp from the boy and- _wait a minute_, Randy thinks_, is he hard, too?_

Randy doesn't get any more time to figure it out, because Colby seems to snap back to reality with the touch, shoving away from the older with such a force that he actually does fall off the bed this time, Randy too stunned to catch him. When the Viper leans over the edge to apologize, he's met with wide, panicked eyes that make his stomach turn. Instantly, Colby is reaching shaky hands in front of him to grab his shoes from where he'd discarded them next to the bed. Randy opens his mouth to speak, he realizes he can't find any words, torn between too many different things all at the same time. Colby is never speechless, though, even now as he struggles to tie his shoes.

"I, uh. It's late and. I just, I need to get back. Dean and Rome, y'know. They're probably wondering..." Colby trails off, jumping to his feet and stomping the right one on the ground a few times to get the shoe the rest of the way on. Randy's never seen him so flustered, fully unable to form complete sentences. He tries to stop the younger, says his name softly, but Colby just talks over him as if he hadn't heard him at all. "I'll text you later, alright?"

Then, he's gone, slamming the door a little bit too hard on the way out. Randy huffs out a loud sigh, dropping to lay on the bed instead of running after the high flyer, who's left his jacket, he'd been in such a rush. No chance in hell he'll be coming back to get it tonight, Randy figures. From the TV, he can hear the pretty Granger girl screaming, "You ruined _everything!"_ and currently, he'd really have to agree.

**XXXXX**

Colby winces at how loudly the door sounds when he shuts it, especially for the incredibly late hour. He hadn't really meant to slam the damn thing, but he's just so frazzled. He can't for the life of him wrap his head around the fact that he's hard, again, but this time it's actually from _kissing Randy_, and Jesus, how the fuck had that even happened? He's making his way hurriedly to the elevator, ready to just be back in his own room forgetting the last fifteen minutes ever happened, when one of the doors is yanked open right as he passes it.

"Y'know, asshole, some of us are trying to- holy fucking shit." a way-too-familiar voice shouts behind him, trailing off the second realization dawns on them as to who they're yelling at. "Colby?"

Colby barely keeps from cringing when Phil says his name, pulling himself to a halt. He wants to cry when he realizes he must have left his jacket in Randy's room, and _no way_ is he going back to get it now, so he's got nothing to hide his erection with. Praying his friend simply won't notice, he turns to greet Phil with a near-nervous smile.

"Hey. What's up?" he offers, giving the older a small, shy wave as a means of distraction. Phil's not having it, though, smirking as he drops to lean against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest.

"Not a whole lot. I just came out here to bitch at Orton, and instead I get you." Phil replies with a curious look to match the smirk. Colby swallows against how dry his throat has suddenly become, trying not to look as guilty as he feels, especially as his friend looks over his whole face, takes in his disheveled hair, red cheeks, the ragged breaths slipping from kiss-swollen lips. Then Phil, all tact, asks, "So, are you two...?"

"What? No! No way! Wh-why would you think...?" Colby practically squawks, and he's pretty confident that that's the least masculine he's ever sounded. Phil just laughs, though, shakes his head at the younger.

"You're right, my bad. If you were fucking, I'd hope he at least wouldn't let you leave with a hard-on." the older says, and the high flyer can't stop the groan that comes out at the words, which only makes Phil laugh harder.

For a moment, Colby wishes that a hole could somehow spring up out of the ground and swallow him whole just so that tonight wouldn't have even mattered. He can barely process what's happened, much less think of a way to handle any of it. For now, he tries to ignore it, moves to slip away down the hall the rest of the way to the elevator while Phil attempts to gather himself. He only makes it two steps before the older is calling his name, halting him again.

"Colby, hey, no, wait, I'm sorry!" Phil exclaims, making Colby turn back to at least hear his friend out. He hopes the conversation is brief, though, especially now that the older is visibly aware of his uncomfortable situation. "Seriously, though, why not?"

And that one's new, the high flyer raising an eyebrow as he asks, "Excuse me? I thought you hated Randy?"

"I mean, I'm not especially fond of the guy, but I feel like if you're going to be sneaking around with someone at all hours of the night, and leaving their room with a- I'll say it- _raging_ boner, you might as well at least stick around long enough to have sex with them. Or get off _somehow_, geez." Phil explains to him, and Colby sucks in a breath, shakes his head at the _thought_ of it.

"No way. I am _not_ talking to you about this." Colby says, about-facing and finally heading toward the elevator. He tosses over his shoulder as he tries to flee, "And I am _not_ fucking Randy Orton!"

Phil outright howls with laughter at this, almost doubling over in an effort to catch his breath. Before Colby has a chance to make it all the way to the elevator doors, the older calls after him, "I'd at least consider it! Maybe you wouldn't be so damn uptight!"

"_Fuck you_, Phil!" Colby fires back, mashing his thumb down on the button repeatedly, as if it will make the damn thing come faster.

Thankfully, his friend decides to give him a break, turning and heading back into his own hotel room. The elevator dings a moment later, and he steps inside, resting his face against the doors the second they're shut. The cool metal is a sharp contrast to his overly flushed face, almost certain he's never been so embarrassed. He can't believe he kissed Randy. He can't believe Phil caught him coming out of Randy's room. He can only hope now that Dean and Roman have already exhausted themselves so that he doesn't have even _more_ explaining to do. Either way, he thinks as he exits the elevator on his floor, at least Phil managed to kill his erection.


	5. Sugar, We're Going Down

**Chapter:** 5: Sugar, We're Going Down

**Author's Note:** I literally have zero excuses for how long this took. I mean, technically, I have about a hundred, but they all sound really lame, especially since I really do have this whole damn thing mapped out, it's just a matter of getting it written and posted. So, I'm just gonna say I'm sorry, and that the next chapter is definitely coming way sooner, since I have more of it written and also, that I hope you enjoy. =)

_~Am I more than you bargained for yet?_  
_I've been dying to tell you anything you want to hear, _  
_'Cause that's just who I am this week_

_I'll be your number one with a bullet_  
_A loaded God complex, _  
_Cock it and pull it.~_

Of course, when Colby wakes up the next morning, he's still beyond freaked out about the events of the night before. It had taken him entirely too long to fall asleep, the taste of Randy still so fresh that every time he'd closed his eyes, he'd wound up right back in that moment, arms riddled with art hot under his hands. Now, even with a new dawn upon him, he can't seem to get the images out of his head, no matter how hard he tries. And he does try, rubbing his fists roughly over his eyes as if to try and physically force the thoughts out. It doesn't work, though, just leaves him with a sore face, and he curses to himself, rolling over to bury his face in the pillow with a groan. There's no possible way he can face Randy like this, he thinks, huffing out a sigh. So, he makes an executive decision: until he gets past these idiotic feelings, he just won't talk to Randy at all. Surely, that'll work, he convinces himself. It _has_ to.

**XXXXX**

"You!" Randy snaps the second John enters their locker room before their next house show, pointing an accusing finger at him for added emphasis.

"Me!" John replies loudly, pointing at himself even as he turns wide eyes on his friend.

"I _knew_ better than to listen to you, John. I knew it, and I did it anyway! My stupid fucking idiot fucking friend!" Randy exclaims, glaring at Cena as he storms over to him, trying to stare him down. The Viper accuses, "Everything's _fucked_, and it's all your fucking fault!"

"Me?" John says again, shoving the younger back this time and fixing him with a glare instead. He asks, "And just what in the hell did _I_ do?"

At this, Randy huffs out a sigh, deciding to pace the length of the locker room instead of getting into an immediate physical altercation with his friend. He mutters as he paces, mostly to himself, "No, no, you're right. It's _my_ fault. That's what I get for _listening_ to my _stupid fucking idiot fucking friend_. Christ, what was I thinking?"

"Whoa. Care to tell me what the hell you're freaking out about, or should I just leave you alone to have your meltdown?" John inquires of his companion, taking Randy by the shoulders in an effort to still his movements. The younger refuses to meet his eyes, however, blushing and growling to himself as he stares at the ground. John raises an eyebrow, questioning, "This about Colby?"

And that at least gets more of a response, Randy shrugging John's hands off of him so that he can cross his arms over his chest, scowl settling on his face. John barely restrains himself from smirking at the movement. After a long, silent moment, Randy finally mutters, frustration etched into his features, "I kissed him, and now he won't fucking talk to me again."

"Wait, what?" John freezes, turning wide eyes on his companion. He half-demands, "Like, kissed him-kissed him, or like, mouth-raped him?"

"What the- _mouth-raped_? Really, John?" the younger half-sighs, exhasperated look fixed onto John now.

"You know what I mean." Cena fires back. He amends himself, "Did he kiss you back? Or was this just you accosting him?"

The Viper does sigh now, rolling his eyes and shooting his friend a glare before going back to pacing. He replies, "_Of course_ he kissed me back. What kind of guy do you think I am?"

John clears his throat in lieu of answering, crossing his own arms over his broad chest. Randy stops in place, groaning and glaring back at the older man.

"Christ, _really_? Fuck you, John. Can we please focus on the actual problem here instead of just your imagined ones? Shit." Randy almost snarls, storming back over to stand in front of his friend.

"Okay, okay, sheesh. Relax." John tells the younger, and it seems as if Randy finally starts to. After a moment, John instructs him, "Now, tell me what happened."

"Well, now I don't want to." Randy grumbles, petulant look painted onto his face as he fixes his eyes upon the ground instead of the older.

John throws his arms up in defeat, going back to getting his clothes out of his bag for the night as he snaps, "Forget it, then! You're fucking impossible!"

When the Legend Killer himself lets out a sound that's strikingly close to a whine, John stops what he's doing immediately, sitting back and turning to his friend with a curious look. The younger man actually looks upset by this whole thing, moreso than John had expected him to. He exhales slowly, causing Randy to shift his gaze up from the floor to meet bright blue ones once more, and he looks so sad that John can't help but ask him once more what's happened here.

"I kissed him, John. I kissed him, and he kissed me back, but then he got so scared, he fell off the damn bed and ran out of the room like it was on fire. And now, _now_ he won't talk to me!" Randy explains near desperately, dropping all the way down to sit on the floor next to the older. His eyes turn back to the ground as he mutters, "I fucked up, and I went too far, and I pushed away the one new friend I'd actually managed to find in a long fucking time. I can't believe I'm such an _idiot_."

And this actually does make John feel like a little bit of a dick, frowning as he focuses on the armband in his hand instead of his friend. He certainly doesn't feel like he's been reading Colby the wrong way, but maybe he has and maybe the kid is just over-affectionate by nature, and if that's the case, then he's single-handedly managed to fuck up a really good friendship for Randy, and that is just not okay. He barely stops the sigh that threatens to slip out before he's looking back at the Viper, trying to force a confident look on his face.

"I'm sure you haven't pushed him away completely, man. He's probably just a little stunned." John tries, trying even harder for a smile, before he offers, "Look, I'll go talk to him and tell him the whole damn thing is my fault, and we'll settle this whole mess and get things back to normal."

"No!" Randy exclaims, wide, panicked eyes snapping up to meet John's, his arms even shooting up in front of him in a completely defensive posture. "No, John, seriously, you can't do that. You have no idea how much worse that will make things."

"Worse than not talking at all?" John asks, and Randy groans once more.

"_Yes!_ John! You don't get it. You _cannot_ just show up at his locker to talk to him. Seriously. _Please_." Randy returns, almost pleading, and the older can't help but cough out a laugh.

He pats his companion on the head where he sits on the floor before tugging on the armband he'd been toying with and rising from his seat, Randy making a distressed noise as he turns to face the door.

"You're so cute when you're actually nervous about something." he tells Randy with a grin, ignoring the panic in his friend as the younger practically leaps up off the floor, squawking his name in protest even as he sets his hand on the door handle. He almost smirks at Randy as he says, "Don't worry, Randy. I'll fix _everything_."

Then, he's exiting the room entirely, letting the door slip shut behind him and just knowing that Randy won't follow. The Viper knows how hard it is to talk John out of something once he's decided fully upon it, and this is definitely one of those occasions. As he tries to find a crew member who might, _maybe_, know where the Shield is for the night, he mentally crosses his fingers that this isn't the horrible idea that Randy seems to think it is, and that somehow, he'll be able to keep his promise to his best friend.

**XXXXX**

The amused look on Dean's face is the only thing that even partially quells Colby's nausea as his friend informs him that John Cena is at their locker room door asking for him. He bites back a sigh and storms over to the door, ignoring the way Dean is trying his damndest not to laugh hysterically as he yanks the door from the older's hand. Sure as shit, there's John, standing there in the doorway with his wide John Cena grin, and Colby instantly wants to punch him in his stupid, smiling face.

He doesn't even bother telling his friends he's leaving, just takes a firm hold of Cena's wrist as he walks out the door, commanding that the older follow him down the hall and away from the thin door separating the two of them from Dean and Roman. Whatever John has come to talk to him about, it almost certainly has to do with Randy, and while John Cena had been a laugh riot for Dean to encounter, finding out just how much he's been hanging out with Randy Orton might not go over quite as well. Either way, today is not the day that he plans to find out. Once he gets what he considers to be a safe enough distance away, he releases the other's wrist, spinning to face him and fixing him with a solid glare.

"What the fuck is your problem, huh? Both of you guys! I already told Randy, you can't just show the fuck up here! Now, what the fuck do you want?" Colby nearly cries out, too frustrated to even stop himself.

Cena regards him with a wide eyed, stunned expression that quickly melts to a much more serious one as the older crosses his arms over his chest.

"You want to try that again, Colby?" John asks him, voice calm and even in spite of the younger's rage.

Colby lets his eyes slip closed, taking a slow, deep breath and clenching and unclenching his fists in an effort to bring himself back down as well. When he exhales, he tries to let go of some of the stress of the moment with it, and it seems to work. John's still waiting patiently when his eyes finally open, so he does as the older said and begins again, sheepish look settling onto his face.

"I'm sorry, John. I'm just dealing with a whole lot right now and I'm not really sure how to handle any of it." he says, hoping Cena will leave it at that, go back to his initial reason for finding him all the way in the basement of the arena.

Of course he doesn't get that lucky, because then Cena inquires, "This about Randy kissing you?"

The younger feels his eyes open wider than he thinks they've ever opened, a tingling, panicked feeling spreading over his whole body as he stills. He'd been so busy worrying about how to handle the kiss with Randy that he hadn't even considered that the older man would _tell his fucking friends_. But _of course_ he did, and now John's come to tell him to back the fuck off, or whatever kind of threatening thing the older could possibly throw at him for messing around with his very male friend. Quickly, he makes a nervous attempt at defending himself.

"Fuck, he told you about that? Christ. Look, tha-that wasn't anything like what you think it was, seriously-" Colby tries to explain all in a rush, face heating up in utter embarrassment. Thankfully, John saves him from rambling anymore by cutting him off with a laugh, arms dropping away from his chest as he relaxes a bit.

"Whoa, hey, relax. What I think it was is a bad call that came from some poorly given advice, and for that, I came to apologize." John says, and Colby freezes again, because wait, _what_? Too stunned to even respond, he lets the older continue, "It seems I misread some signals off of you, and I told Randy to make some moves that, in hindsight, were a bad idea, since you're evidently pretty freaked out by the whole thing, and I'm sorry for that."

"I'm not really freaked out, exactly." Colby replies without thinking, and instantly regrets it, a too-curious look fall over John's features.

"No?" Cena questions, hint of a smile beginning to turn up the corners of his lips.

"No," he tells the older honestly, figuring the damage has already been done. He fumbles for an excuse for the lack of communication, but the only thing he can come up with is, "I'm just...dealing with a lot."

The words sound just as lame as they did the first time, and Colby wishes he could groan at himself, but all that would accomplish is furthering this portrait of an idiot he's painting of himself in front of his co-worker (and friend?), so he stifles the urge. He feels awkward despite John's growing grin, almost squirming under the gaze. This is definitely not a conversation he'd ever expected to have today, and now he's completely unsure how to feel about it other than guilty, especially when John starts up again.

"I get that. We all go through some rough patches, especially in this industry. Randy was just pretty upset that you aren't talking to him again, and I feel terrible about it, so I figured I'd come let you know that really, this whole mess is my fault, so if you're upset in any way, it should be at me." the older says, running a nervous hand over the back of his head.

And this just makes Colby feel even worse, because really, his avoidance of the Viper couldn't have less to do with John, no matter what advice he may or may not have given his friend. Before he has a chance to tell the older any of this, however, Cena is letting out a slow breath, speaking once again.

"The thing is, Randy has kind of a reputation for being a pretty big asshole, which, I'm sure is why your friends aren't exactly privy to you guys' friendship." John begins, and it almost feels like an accusation, though Colby's sure that's just his own emotions taking over. He continues, "But, despite having to keep it so hush-hush, you're honestly one of the better friends he's managed to find around here in the last few years. At the very least, you've stuck around longer, and you seem to be a nice enough kid. You've made a good addition to our little group lately, believe it or not. I'd just hate to think that I was the one who fucked that up, especially for Randy."

"You didn't fuck anything up. Either one of you." Colby says instantly, Cena's honesty hitting him harder than anticipated. He lets out a slow sigh, trying to exhale the overwhelming guilt with it. There's really only one way to fix this, he figures, so he tells John, "Don't worry. I'll talk to him."

"Yea?" John questions hopefully, perking up in a way that reminds the younger of his dog back home, and Colby can't help the smile that begins to finally take over his face at the thought.

"Yea," he replies, "I will. I shouldn't have just blown him off like that. I'm really not mad or anything."

"Good. That's great. I-thank you, Colby, seriously. This means a lot to him. To me. Both of us." the older nearly exclaims, excitement evidently making it difficult, for once, for Cena to find the right words. It makes Colby smile even wider, laugh the slightest bit. It's just a conversation, he thinks, but he can't stop the feeling that's something like excitement beginning to pool in his own stomach, as well.

"It's no big deal." Colby tells John honestly. Then, "I'll talk to him tonight, promise."

"Perfect. Seriously, thank you. For talking to him again, and for taking this all so well, and...I dunno, for being an alright friend. You're a good kid, Colby." John informs him, rubbing a quick hand over the high flyer's shoulder. Then, he's clapping the hand down so hard, it almost takes the younger off his feet. As Colby regains his breath, John says, "Well, I'm opening Raw tonight, so I'm gonna head out. Thanks again, though, man."

"Yea, no problem." Colby says, even as John begins to head back the way he came, almost jogging with how late he is.

Colby huffs out a real sigh now, dropping to lean against the wall for a moment, gather his thoughts. He can't believe the mess tonight has managed to turn into. He should have known better than to try and avoid any situation involving Randy Orton. It's never worked in the past, if anything, had the opposite effect, so why the hell he'd ever expected it to work now is beyond him. Regardless, he's promised to stop avoiding the problem and actually handle it, and it seems that really, that's the only option left, anyway. And, he figures, now is as good a time as any to go ahead and get that talk out of the way, too many open excuses to get out of an awkward conversation ready and available at his disposal. So, he pushes himself off the wall with a light noise, turning and heading back toward his locker room to at least reassure Dean and Roman that Cena hasn't killed him before he goes about his business. Of course, Dean is still smirking when he opens the door.

"So, uh, what'd _John Cena_ want to talk to you about?" his friend asks immediately, nearly vibrating with his amusement.

"He's one of those people I didn't think you'd like that I've been hanging out with sometimes. He just wanted to know my opinion on something." the high flyer replies, opting for something at least moderately close to the truth. Dean nods as if he completely agrees, he's not exactly a Cena fan. Before he can ask any more questions, Colby continues almost anxiously, "But, ah, I have some business I need to take care of? So I'll see you guys by the stairs for our entrance in a little while, okay?"

In order to avoid having to try to explain things that he just doesn't want to get into with either of his friends right now, he slips back out the door before either of them can say another word. Unsurprisingly, the Viper's locker room isn't hard to find, even without any form of assistance (the last thing he needs is people to find out he's actually _looking_ for Randy. He's been embarrassed enough for the day, thanks). Not only is Randy's logo printed as large as possible with his name on a sheet of paper, but Cena's monstrocity of a logo is right next to it, bright as can be. _That explains a lot_, Colby thinks, unable to fight the laugh that bubbles up in him at the sight. Ridiculous though it may be, he's thankful for the awkward display, because it at least manages to calm some of his nerves about the ever-nearing conversation. Finally, he takes a deep breath, and quickly, so he can't change his mind, he knocks on the door.

Randy always seems to have difficulty hiding his emotions around Colby, and today is no exception, a completely shocked look falling over his features for a brief moment before he manages to rein it in. His voice is slightly higher than normal when he says the younger's name, and Colby only barely manages not to laugh out loud again. It's only Randy's embarrassed expression that quickly follows that stops him, makes him wave awkwardly instead.

"Hey." he says, trying for a reassuring smile.

"Hi." Randy replies, barely masking the astonishment that he's very clearly still feeling. He coughs, clears his throat before he's speaking again, fiddling around with his hands as he nearly mutters, "I, uh. I guess John came to see you after all?"

"Yea, he did. He had to get to the ring, though, so I figured I'd go ahead and come see you." Colby affirms, watching the older's face color at the words.

Randy scrubs a hand over his face sheepishly before turning a near grimace on the high flyer, exclaiming in an almost frustrated tone, "Shit, look, I am _so_ fucking sorry about that. I told him you hate people just showing up at your room like that, but John doesn't ever listen to a fucking word I say, so of _course_ he did it anyway, dammit. I'm sorry, Colby, really."

"It's okay, honestly. I'm not mad. Just," Colby says, looking around nervously as he rocks back and forth on his feet before asking, "Can I come in, or do we really have to talk about all of this out in the hallway?"

"Oh! Shit! Yea, come in, please." Randy jumps, realizing his mistake and stepping to the side, gesturing at the younger for him to enter. He apologizes again as he closes and locks the door, "My bad. I've kind of been all over the place lately."

"Yea, John mentioned that." the high flyer tells him, and Randy curses softly.

"Big-mouthed motherfucker." the Viper says under his breath, scowling for a moment. Then, he's turning back to Colby, "Again, I'm really sorry he showed up unannounced like that. I know you said it's okay, but-"

"That's because it is, seriously." the younger replies, cutting Randy off. He says quickly, words pouring out before he can properly process them, "He shouldn't have had to do it in the first place. I shouldn't have been ignoring you like that. It was a pretty dick move. I mean we just...kissed."

It's like the energy in the room completely changes at the word, becoming electric in a way it definitely hadn't been before. The intensity of it makes Colby drop his eyes away from Randy's blues, turn to where he's begun to play with his own hands now. The silence that stretches between them is almost painful, neither of them really knowing how to continue from here. Finally, Colby opens his mouth and just speaks, anything to stop this awful quiet.

He's almost too honest as he says, "I mean, it's not like you're the first guy I've ever kissed. And it wasn't...bad."

Colby trails off as he looks back at Randy once again and finds the older watching him carefully, way too curious expression on his face. The young aerialist swallows thickly as the older asks, "It wasn't?"

"No," Colby shakes his head a bit, "It just, ah. It threw me off, is all. But seriously, it's just a kiss. It's not really a big deal, right?"

At this, Randy seems to falter the slightest bit, and Colby's stomach tightens at the sight of it, worried for a moment that he said the wrong thing. But then, Randy is agreeing, nodding along with it, and Colby can't help but nod, too.

"Cool." he says, even if he doesn't completely mean it.

Another silence blankets the room, this one just as awkward, but less painfully uncomfortable. Colby looks away again, eyes focused on his shoes this time, toeing at a scuff on the floor, trying to scrape it off. He's so fixated on his task that when Randy speaks again, he startles, turning wide eyes on the older.

"So, uh, what else did John tell you?" Randy asks, and Colby can't help but smirk. If the Viper is just going to tell his friend _everything_ without so much as a warning to Colby, he figures he can mess with the older man a little bit in return. He pretends to ponder the question momentarily before responding.

"Well, he mentioned you can be a pretty big asshole, but I already knew that." Colby begins, finally beginning to move closer to his friend instead of standing nearly across the room, and Randy rolls his eyes, scoffs.

"I bet he did. Dick." Randy spits out, crossing his arms over his chest in something like a pout. Colby actually does laugh now, dropping to lean against the wall next to where the older is finally finishing up preparing for the rest of tonight's taping. The Viper starts shuffling through his locker almost as a distraction as he questions, "Anything else?"

"He did say you were pretty torn up about me not talking to you." the high flyer says, almost cocky now, and Randy's glad his head is still buried in his locker, because he can _feel_ the blush beginning to spread across his cheeks. _Of course_ that asshole told the kid that, he thinks.

"I dunno that I'd say I was torn up." Randy coughs out, refusing to face Colby as he speaks. "Mildly concerned, maybe."

"Oh yea? Well, he felt pretty guilty about the whole thing for you to just be mildly concerned." Colby fires back, and Randy can hear skepticism and something like mockery in his tone. It's enough to make him pull his head out of the locker, turn a look that's just as curious as the high flyer's back upon him.

"What was he feeling so guilty about? I thought I was the one who kissed you?" the Viper brings back up the source of the conflict once more as he stands, takes a step closer into Colby's space, hoping to rattle the boy enough for him to regain the upper hand in this conversation. It doesn't work, though, and Randy mentally curses as Colby simply shrugs.

"I dunno. He said something about giving you some bad advice about me? That he read some signals off of me wrong, and told you some moves to make based on that?" Colby starts, and Randy almost freezes completely. He feels oddly in the spotlight as the younger speaks, like he's being called out in the middle of the ring, only much more personal (much more terrifying, though Randy will _never_ voice that thought, barely wants to think it). It's like Colby knows he has something of an advantage now, too, Randy almost sweating in front of him despite the facade of intimidation he manages to maintain, and Colby's determined to leave the Viper on the spot like this. Now, he's the one taking an extra step into the other's space, smirking as he continues, "Now, I dunno what he thought he read from me, but if he's giving you advice on how to deal with it, then I can only assume that that means there was some evidence from _you_ for him to go off, too."

And Randy has no idea where the kid is going with any of this, but he finds himself entirely too eager to find out, cocking an eyebrow at the boy and shooting him a sideways grin.

"Is that so?" he asks, and Colby nods, hums his affirmation. Randy coughs out half a laugh, questions, "And just what is it that you think he picked up from me, hmm?"

There's that shrug again, still so full of confidence that all Randy wants to do is shake him up. He has no clue how the young aerialist has managed to remain so cocky during this whole conversation, but he assumes it has to do with how easily the kiss was dismissed, leaving Colby free to ignore it and act the same as they always have. Randy's the only one apparently picking up on the changes, the way Colby breathes faster now when he's this close, the light flush taking over his skin tone at the mere mention of the kiss, his ever-darkening pupils. He can act unaffected all he wants, Randy thinks, but his body betrays him. Randy only notices the differences, however, because he's experiencing the same things, having to actually put effort into not gasping when he breathes, and he crosses his fingers that his nerves aren't actually making him sweat. When Colby smirks, replies to his inquiry with a smug, "You tell me. Do you secretly want to fuck me, Randy?", the Viper can't even stop himself.

"I thought you'd never ask, kid." Randy breathes.

Before Colby can react, he's grabbing the high flyer's shoulders tightly and slamming him back against the wall he was just leaning on. Colby gasps the second Randy's lips as on his once again, and the older wastes no time today, his tongue diving into Colby's mouth and finding his own. He feels the younger nearly melt in his arms at the touch, Colby kissing back with just as much fervor as his fingers glide up Randy's arms to cling tightly to grey and black shoulders. Randy releases his grip on the aerialists's own shoulders to travel up to his face, holding on just rough enough to pull Colby closer, drag him in deeper. As Randy bites down softly, tugs on the boy's lower lip a bit, Colby releases a noise that's a cross between a sigh and a moan, a sound that Randy swallows as he dips back in for another full kiss. He's just letting Colby finally take the lead, timid tongue just made it into his mouth, when the locker room door handle rattles, quickly followed by a loud knock that makes them both freeze, lips still locked.

"Randy? We need you to film a promo real quick!" a crew member calls from the other side of the door, and Randy breaks away with a groan, turning his face barely toward the door the respond.

"Okay, fine! I'll be out in a minute!" he snaps.

Then, he's turning back to Colby with a soft sigh, dropping his forehead to rest against the younger's and closing his eyes for a beat as if to gather himself. After a moment, he opens them again, locking onto Colby's own and finally releasing his hold on the boy's face to trail one hand down to his shoulder, the other up into his hair. He gives Colby's face a quick once-over, taking in his now completely disheveled, flustered appearance with something like satisfaction. The high flyer's face is bright red, mouth open and lips glistening as he struggles to catch his breath, regain some semblance of composure. Knowing that he has regained the upper hand, Randy offers Colby a grin, and a wink. He might as well take advantage of the moment, he thinks.

"I have to go. But, you should really consider that offer you made, and whether or not you meant it. Could be a good time." Randy tells him, and Colby has no idea what to even say that, very visibly stunned by everything that's gone on. Randy's grin just widens and he drops another quick, chaste kiss onto the younger's lips before he's pushing himself away, heading toward the door. Before he exits, he says, "Seriously, text me about it later on and we'll talk. Or wait for me after Raw. Whichever. I'll catch you later, kid."

And with one last near beaming smile, Randy's gone, letting the door almost slam shut behind him. Colby slides down the wall to sit against it, legs shaking too badly to hold him up anymore. The last five minutes run through his head on a continuous loop, like and animated .gif online, playing over and over and over again. He drops his face into his hands, tries desperately to catch his breath, but it's hard, too many emotions hitting him all at once. _Randy Orton _wants to _fuck him_? He thinks, _this can't be real life_. But it is, and now he has a whole new problem to deal with. He's unsure of how exactly he's going to handle this situation, where the hell to even go from here, but one thing, he's completely certain of: he is, once again, very, _very_ turned on.


End file.
